


A Sanguine Baptism

by Amarantramentum



Series: The Economics of Death [6]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarantramentum/pseuds/Amarantramentum
Summary: A tale of vengeance and rebirth.





	A Sanguine Baptism

**Author's Note:**

> Wrath:  
>  _Strong vengeful anger or indignation_
> 
> * * *
> 
> Please take note of the tags and warnings and feel free to message me in the comments if you feel anything needs to be added.

 

There was silence now in the room, save the drip-drip-drip of blood. It crawled beneath his skin, a feeling of something _wrong_. Like tip-toeing the line between obedience and anger. Like silence in the wake of battle. Like unease where the smell of magic permeated.

But his stomach did not lurch.

Talon’s blade clattered to the ground, the sound hollow. For a moment, he could almost swear it was the sound of bones snapping under the strength of his trembling fingers. He closed his eyes. Wiped the blood from his face (smeared it instead across cheek and lips, like rouge).

He could feel it still. The hot, slick warmth of blood and organs in his hands. The wet slide of his hands on his master’s ribs as he pulled them outward, one by one by one. Each accompanied by a horrific crack. Like lightning. Like divine ire. Each accompanied by a growing satisfaction deep in his heart and bones.

The feeling of retribution.

Master struggled against his bonds, once. But his body had long stilled (Talon could not remember when). There was something satisfying in his eerie stillness. A certain kind of _helplessness_ in death that made the corner of his lip curl cruelly. It reminded him of all the times _before_ , when he had been helpless to protect himself.

(Hot breaths. Hands wandering even if he squirmed. The taste of sickness and bile rising in his throat as he simply laid there and waited for Master to be finished).

He understood why Master enjoyed it so. A laugh bubbled up his throat, the sound twisting as it caught in his chest. It sounded dangerously like a sob, but crying was for the weak, and he had proven himself this night.

Dragging himself up, he reached out and gripped Master’s head between his hands. His face was awash with blood, his mouth a bloody hole missing both teeth and tongue. His eyes were glassy and unseeing, but still something about them brought a wave of _rage_ crashing within him and Talon, overcome with it, gritted his teeth and violently thrust his fingers into an eye.

It squelched and Talon only wished his master was still alive so he could hear him _scream_.

Slime ran down his hand when finally, he pulled back. His breaths were sharp and punctuated the air with a certain desperation. The grin had returned. He licked his lips. The stench of blood and bile settled into the room and a part of him wanted to lay in it until it was all he could smell and taste.

It smelt of _victory_ and he was _delirious_ on it.

* * *

It was many hours before he staggered out of the basement (cursed place sanctified by blood and death). Master’s blood clung, half-dried to his hair, to his clothes, to his fingertips and lips and down his throat.

(He had heard, many years ago, of an ancient kind of magic. It had chilled him to the bone to hear it then, that eating an enemy’s flesh could grant one their strength, and what could grant more strength than one’s captor?)

The bathwater ran red and as he laid his head back against the rest, it felt as if he were bathing in a torrent of his master’s blood. Warm and wet, it was a twisted baptism in blood and guts and bile. He was born anew in these red waters.

He was reborn with strength in his heart and freedom to his name.


End file.
